Day Off
by gabsdebs
Summary: Peggy has a day off, and Angie has a family to feed - but can Peggy cope in a kitchen?


However fancy Howard Stark's posh house was, the curtains really weren't that brilliant at keeping out light. The rays of early morning sun illuminated one of the 8 large bedrooms that now belonged to Margret Carter and Angela Martinelli.

Earlier in the night, Angie had been woken by the sounds of Peggy's nightmare. This seemed to be the case three or four times every long week. When this did happen, Angie had made it her job to pad down the hallways and gently wake Peggy up. She'd never ask about the nightmares, but she occasionally heard the name 'Steve'. After rousing Peggy from her uneasy slumber, Angie would sit on the edge of her bed and talk. Peggy didn't have a preference as to what Angie spoke of, but just hearing her comforting voice and cheery laugh would help her sleep easily. Angie would talk about her unpleasant regulars at the automat, and joke about Peggy's 'monkey-faced co-workers'. Often, Angie would stay with Peggy for the rest of the night, sleeping comfortably by her side. Tonight had been one of those nights.

Peggy groaned as she woke up. She didn't have work that day, but her early-rising habit wasn't going to let her sleep in. Blinking away the mist in her eyes, Peggy stretched and say up, sleepily. It wasn't long before Angie, too, was awake.  
"Morning, English." Angie mumbled.  
"I- er… nightmare again?" Peggy asked, unable to recall. Angie nodded.  
"Not so bad this time though." Peggy sighed.  
"Can I make you some tea, Angie?" A now wide awake Peggy offered.  
"For god's sake English! You're so… English!"  
"I'll take that as a no, then?"  
"I'm alright." Angie's eyes widened. "My family's coming over tonight." She said, in a sudden realisation.  
"As you've not failed to mention twenty times a day for the past week." Peggy noted, rolling her eyes.  
"We have to-"  
"-Cook something nice, I know." Finished Peggy. "And as I've kept telling you, I can't cook to save the King's life."  
"I'm sure you're not _that_ bad." Angie said, emphatically.  
"Why do you think I'm at the automat every day?" Angie looked dismayed. "Apart from being able to see your lovely face."  
"I'm not going to work today." Angie decided. "I am simply too stressed."

Angie quite convincingly called in sick, adding some unsurprisingly realistic coughs and sneezes. Peggy, meanwhile had made the cup of tea she had planned on making. Sure, she wasn't a chef, but a Brit's not a Brit unless they can make a cup of tea. Angie was convinced that her mother would disown her if she wasn't fed a decent meal. Though at first, Peggy knew Angie was exaggerating, the act was so believable that she began to stress alongside.  
"Okay." Angie said, reaching down a chopping board from a shelf. The first thing that Angie did when she moved in was re-organise the kitchen to her liking. "Peel these." Angie slid a sack of potatoes across the counter, over to a slightly disoriented Peggy.  
"We can't seriously need all of these." Peggy said, prodding the bulging sack of potatoes with a knife.  
"I've got five brothers and a mother who eats for three." Angie insisted. "We'll need 'em." Peggy stared at the potatoes, looking clueless. Being an SSR agent had a very different skill set required. Peggy had never even thought about cooking before.  
"I, er… I don't really know _how_ to peel them." Peggy excused, embarrassed.  
"Oh come _on_ Peg, it's easy!" Angie exclaimed, taking an exemplar potato from the bag and effortlessly shedding its skin. "Your turn." Unsurely, Peggy inspected the peeled potato, before attempting one herself. Instead of smoothly skimming the surface of the potato, Peggy felt the blade press into the skin of her thumb.  
"Bugger!" Peggy muttered, dropping the knife on to the chopping board, in surprise. She put her bleeding thumb in her mouth and sucked on it until it stopped.  
"Aw Peg, are you okay?" Angie asked, putting hand on Peggy's shoulder and peering over it.  
"Oh, darling. I have had _so_ much worse than this."  
"Keep your secrets then, English." Angie sighed, throwing a hand up in the air.  
"No secret." Peggy replied, revealing the three most poignant bullet-wound scars (the two on her shoulder and the most recent on her leg). Angie winced, but reacted as calmly as she could.  
"Just parta the job, huh?"  
"It would seem."  
"So, am I gonna have to teach you like a little kid?"  
"I'm afraid so…" Peggy sighed, defeated. Angie laughed, completely bemused by Peggy's lack of cooking skills.

Angie retrieved a utensil from the drawer on her left, that Peggy thought looked like a familiar, unpleasant torture device. "What on _earth_ is that?" Peggy asked, sounding shocked"  
"This?" Angie asked, looking at the object she held. "Don't tell me you've never seen a potato peeler."  
"I was once picked up by a HYDRA agent in Russia, during the war. _That_ ," Peggy continued, "looks like something he tried to get information out of me with."  
"What happened? Did they torture you?!"  
"I said _one_ agent." Angie smiled, relieved. Peggy brushed it past her, as if that event was a regular Monday . "So, how do you use it?"  
"I still don't believe _I'm_ the one teaching _you_ how to do something. I always figured it'd be the other way round." Angie chortled, cheerily. She proceeded to move the peeler around the outside of a different potato, smoothly taking the skin off that one too. "Think you can manage?" Angie asked, teasingly. Peggy felt her cheeks redden slightly, embarrassed that she couldn't complete the basic task of peeling a potato. She could do many things that most women couldn't, but when it came to simple things… why, Peggy was just as useful as a chocolate teapot. Determined to succeed, Peggy attempted another potato that wasn't stained with her blood. It took her quite a while, and it didn't turn out as cleanly peeled as she'd hoped, but nonetheless, Peggy did it. Eventually, she go the swing of it.  
"There!" She announced, stepping back to reveal the pile of potatoes that she had spent the past hour minutes peeling. She looked and felt prouder of herself than she did after diffusing a bomb. Angie clapped her hands, gleefully.  
"Knew you had it in ya, English." Peggy glanced over to see what Angie had been up to whilst she peeled potatoes as if her life depended on it. Angie had essentially prepared everything she needed for the three-course meal she had planned.  
"Goodness gracious Angie! You've done an awful lot…"  
"Pfft! We'll see how much an 'awful lot' is when mommy-dearest gets here." Angie replied. "I think you better let me do this bit Peg."  
"I couldn't agree more." Peggy said, stepping back further to let Angie continue.

In a few magical moves, Angie had transformed the pile of potatoes into a large heap of potato, and then turned _that_ into a batch of perfectly round, small gnocchi's. "I'm not even going to ask you how you did that." Peggy said, sighing. 


End file.
